Friday 9.05.08: CH-CHINNNNNNNNNG

Yo. Yooooooo! YOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Last night was back to business. Like wall-to-wall, sweaty-neck, who-puked-broken-glass-in-the-men's-room? type business. Within ten minutes of walking in I had been fed three shots back-to-back and Jorge had tried to kiss me at least as many times. By 11:00 Truck and Cooper were visibly sweating as they churned drinks out under the google-eyed gaze of a sea of rubbernecks, credit cards aloft. Jorge pulled his infamous Goodbye Headfake, where he bids long, maudlin farewells to everyone within ten feet, only to return thirty minutes later in a hat and poncho. The place lost a little weight around the midnight hour as the funk and hip-hop began to wear on the white folks; one blast of George Michael and I couldn't see the front door by the time the song was done. The night's status as a bona fide blowout was certified by the rarest of sights: Truck actually came outside the bar for several minutes after closing, something I think I've only witnessed maybe one other time. Maybe. I guess the woman needed some air. 

Practically the entire cast was present; Jason, Matt & Carol, Janet, Zarani, Max, my boy Freddy, Ferren, the Mustachios, Lyndsey, Heat, Isaac, and Greg, whom I beat soundly in an after-hours whistle-off to the tune of Guns 'N Roses' "Patience". No shame in that, brother: everyone has one God-given talent, and whistling is mine. DJing is just a side hustle to buffer my expenses while my career as a professional whistler takes off. Anyone know a good manager?

The big missing piece of the evening, of course, was my recently married compatriot Sum, who returns from Atlanta tomorrow. So my return to Friday nights was somewhat bittersweet. On the other hand, I do make double the money when I DJ alone. So I shall console myself with this extra $100.

DAMAGE (memory permitting): (1) vodka & cranberry, (1) Irish Carbomb, (1) shot of green stuff, (1) rummy mixed drink Ian made me (2) Coronas, (2) Jagermeister & Redbulls, (1) shot of tequila), (1) shot of anonymous sweet liquid courtesy of Truck.

What is happening to me? This time two years ago I could barely finish three beers without lots of breaks and deep breaths. 

My facial hair is growing extremely fast lately. My fingernails too, come to think of it. 

I got an email the other day from a graphic designer named Maurice who said he is a Friday night regular of sorts, and wanted to design a new flyer for us. Amazing timing, since we were actually in the process of working on new flyers anyway. So here's what he came up with. Let me know what you think, and check more of his work out at http://www.moedigliani.com/.